Violate-The world's a filthy place
by NormalPeopleScareMe1994
Summary: This is Tate and Violet if they were both born in the 70's and didn't die the way that they did basically. On going. it's gonna be fluffy and romantic but like AHS dark and scary :) hope you enjoy! includes Constance, Beauregard, Addie, Ben, Vivien etc :D
1. Chapter 1

1992

Vioelt's POV. 

"Please do this for us Vi." My Mom begged, tears in her eyes.

"Why should I accept this bullshit? The only reason you're doing this is to get Grandpa off your backs." I glowered at them both.

"We care about you." Dad lied.

"Bull shit."

"Violet." He sighed. "You are going to the therapist. You have a lot of issues that we need to work through."

"You're the therapist Dad! Why can't you do it?" I clung on to false hope.

"You would blatantly lie to my face also it is not right for someone who is involved to be a therapist." He explained.

"You're not involved." I muttered under my breath and grabbed my bag.

"I'll call to make sure you're there." Mom yelled as I slammed the front door.

"No you won't." I yelled back.

It's bullshit. Only Grandpa cares and even then it's not enough. He'd never put anything into action, only tell my parents to get their asses into gear.

The therapists office was only a few blocks away and thankfully it didn't have,

_THERAPIST FOR BASKET CASES_

Plastered on the front door. Only Dr Bunting.

I sighed and opened the door, an hour early since I'd skipped the morning at school. I was supposed to go to school for an hour, then come here. Because that's likely.

"Good morning, do you have an appointment?" The lady at the fornt desk beamed.

I sighed and dragged myself over to her.

"Yeah, Violet Harmon, 10:30."

"You're a little early."

I faked a laugh. "I must have gotten the times confused."

She sensed my lie.

"Well there isn't really any point sending you home for an hour. Just wait in the waiting room down the hall and to the left honey." She laughed.

"Thanks." I smiled painfully and slumped my bag back over my shoulder.

I found the waiting room and threw myself onto the soft chair and sighed loudly.

I felt a pair of eyes on me, I looked up to see a boy. He was blatantly staring at me up and down, taking me in. Crazy.

_This is set in 1992 :) _

_Tate is 15_

_Violet is 15_

_Addie is 20_

_Bug (Tate's other brother) is 19, he's albino. _

_Beauregard is 10_

_So tell me what you think :) _

_E x_


	2. Chapter 2

Tate's POV. 

"I don't know why Mom makes you go here. I mean it's not like it's going to help you." Bug sighed, sick of driving me around.

I rolled my eyes at the road ahead.

"It's not like she cares."He tried to provoke me.

"She cares too much. It's sickening." I glared at my knee.

"No she doesn't. She just wants the perfect family."

"She should have realised that she will never have that. We're all messed up in some way or other." I spat.

"Apart from you."

"Then why are you driving me to a therapist if I'm not messed up?" I arched an eyebrow.

"Stop doing that. It's weird."

"At least I have eyebrows." I muttered.

He glowered in my general direction and I smirked.

"Get out." He stopped in car in the carpark.

I laughed and got fully out just before he started reversing with my leg still in the car.

"BASTARD!" I yelled at him as he drove off.

I walked into the office.

Janice greeted me,

"You alright today honey?"

"I'm grand." I smiled.

"No breaking my plant pots, any of them, not in the waiting room, not in the hall. Anywhere." She pointed her finger at me.

I laughed.

"Later Jan." I waved and went over to the waiting room. I sat in my spot next to the window and stared outside, at all the normal people.

I envied them all. Like a burning rage but it wasn't their fault.

A girl walked in and threw herself into a chair loudly. First appointment I'll bet. I looked at her.

Then out of the window but something had caught my eyes, intrigued me. Her eyes.

Such a strange yet beautiful colour, like caramel. Her hair was only shade darker and was tied in a loose bun. Her eyes were big compared to her thin face. She had the classic look of depression and a shitty home life.

She was very thin and tall, she wore long clothes. A long navy blue dress that went to her shins then some boots. She had a white long sleeved top underneath the dress, she was very intriguing in a beautiful way.

She looked back up at me and I hid a smile. She thought I was a loon. Staring at her. Well it looks like both of us are loons now since we both stared. I smiled in amusement and she looked away, I carried on looking, at how she would breathe softly twice then a third heavy breath.

"Problem?" She arched an eyebrow.

Oh the arching the eyebrow trick? I see. I chuckled and looked away.

I heard her rustling around, I turned to see that she was holding a leaflet about mental disorders.

Time for the eyebrow. I laughed to myself. An old trick learned from Constance, to get pretty much whatever you want. Maybe i was relying on it too much. No one else did it, well not as much anyway. Imitating them was difficult, too much effort but it has to be done. Especially the casual smiling, that was downright irritating.

She rolled her eyes at me and carried on reading.

"Tate? You ready?" Dr Bunting asked.

Today would be different. I'd usually sit there and bullshit my way through the hour but I had to tell him the truth today, it was getting too much. I had to get help.

_If you guys are wondering about the imitating and eyebrow part, Tate is a psychopath right? and the people he interacts with aren't exactly 'normal' he is trying to imitate a normal person to avoid them finding out he's crazy. A lot of psychopaths and sociopaths do this. _

_Now that's cleared up, did you like it? This story is also on Wattpad- DustyBlackRose _

_Please review xx_

_E xx_


	3. Chapter 3

**Violet's POV**

I stared back at him. He seemed to be my age, fifteen maybe sixteen.  
His hair was curly and blonde, he'd obviously had it cut short but then hadn't been to get it cut in a while as it had turned shaggy. It fell just above his eyes which were a very dark brown, almost black but the light reflected through them as he was sat next to the window.  
He looked tall and slightly thin due to his baggy clothes. He was in a long sleeved black shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, he then had dark wash ripped jeans on with tatty grey converse on.  
He looked pale even though he undoubtebly lived in L.A because his hair was bleached by the sun. He smiled slightly at me staring back at him, showing that he had dimples.  
I looked away but I could tell that he was still staring.  
"Problem?" I arched an eyebrow and he chuckled but looked away.  
I hid my first half real smile in months.  
He did look familiar, had I seen him around? He must go to the same school, there isn't another around here. To be fair I hardly turned up so I didn't have a chance to really recognise anyone. Or anyone to recognise me.  
I sighed to myself, reading the leaflets on signs for mental disorders. I looked up at the boy and he arched a dark eyebrow at the leaflet and me.  
I rolled my eyes.  
"Tate? You ready?" A man, obviously the doctor, came out.  
"Sure." The boy got up and walked into the office, holding the finger up at me behind his back and I couldn't help but laugh, great laugh to myself in a therapists waiting room with no one else there. Great start Violet.  
I fished the Great Gatsby out of my backpack and started all over again since I'd lost my page.  
I was lost in the book so I jumped when the door slammed open, the boy, Tate stormed out. He'd obviously been crying. He snatched his bag from the chair and kicked the plant pot over angrily as he left, causing it to smash.  
"That's the 3rd one in a month, we'll need to get a plastic pot." The doctor sighed. "Violet Harmon?" He looked to me as I was the only one in the room now.  
I stood up nervously and followed him into the office. He was kind, he looked kind too, he had tanned skin, black hair and hazel eyes. A few laugh lines and he smiled a lot.  
I wondered what had happened to Tate.  
I was mostly silent during the hour, not wanting to talk and the doctor understood and sat there, waiting for me to talk.  
"What's your home life like Violet?" He asked when we had almost ten minutes left.  
I jumped at the sudden noise. "What?"  
"What is it like at home?"  
"It's crap. I hate it there."  
"And why's that?"  
"It's just so fake you know. I mean my parents only care about themselves, not me, not my brother and not eachother. But as soon as someone can see us it all changes and we're the American dream family." I ranted.  
"I imagine that can be very stressful for you."  
I folded my arms.

_You have no idea_ I thought but didn't have enough motivation to say outloud. Dr Bunting looked at me concerned, then wrote some notes down and I rolled my eyes at him. This, twice a week. I'd rather kill myself.

_Hey, i've decided that i need to update more since i already have a lot typed up haha. Did you like it, please tell me. It makes my day : ) _

_E xx_


	4. Chapter 4

**Tate's POV**

"Sure." I got up, making my way into Dr Bunting's office. I gave the girl the middle finger behind my back, I found myself curious about what her laugh sounded like, was it a throaty chuckle or a high pitched giggle? Was it 'cute' or irritating?

It worked, she laughed. It wasn't a normal person laugh. I'd never heard one quite the same. I could tell she hadn't laughed properly in weeks, only the sarcastic one here and there. Her laugh was soft but slightly rough, showing me that she smoked. She was getting more and more interesting.

The corner of my lip turned upwards without me forcing it to, which made me uneasy. I sat down on Dr Bunting's couch, crossing my legs.

"You seem in high spirits today Tate." He smiled at me.

My eyes flickered up to his, making eye contact, a rare thing for me.

"I guess I am." I shrugged.

"Well that's certainly an improvement. Have you been taking your medication?"

"Yes." I sighed at the routine conversation and got up to find myself a comfier seat. I settled to Dr Bunting's chair, watching to see if it agitated him. It didn't.

"Is it helping you?"

"You're the doctor, you're supposed to know right?"

"Not without your co-operation Tate."

"Right. Well, it has been helping. But there's something I haven't told you. Something big, well at least I think it's pretty big. I brushed it off at first but it's getting worse and I'm losing it." I brought my knees to my chest then shifted so they were spread out, ankles crossed over.

"Do you feel comfortable telling me?"

"No, but I need to get better right?"

"We all want you to."

"Well I have these visions, not the future or any crazy shit like that, like dreams. When I'm sleeping and when I'm awake. Like I could be talking to my mother and I'll be dreaming."

He got his notepad out, his eyebrows furrowed and he moved to get comfortable, we would be here a while.

"What are these dreams about?"

"Murder. It's always killing someone or a lot of people. It isn't some killing spree, it's carefully planned and that's why it scares me, because in the dream. I'm happy. It's the only time I feel like I have purpose or happiness. That's not right is it? It's always the same. It always starts the same way." I looked at him dead in the eye, he tried to maintain the eye contact but couldn't.

"How? Tell me."

"I prepare for the noble war. I'm calm; I know the secret. I know what's coming, and I know no one can stop me, including myself." I smiled, thinking of my dreams.

"Do you target people who have been mean to you or unkind?"

"I kill people I like. Some of them beg for their life. I don't feel sad. I don't feel anything. It's a filthy world we live in. It's a filthy goddamn helpless world, and honestly, I feel like I am helping to take them away from the shit and the piss and the vomit that run through the street. I am helping to take them somewhere clean and kind. The world is a filthy place; It's a filthy goddamn horror show. There's so much pain, you know? There's so much… There is something about all that blood; I drown in it. The Indians believed that blood holds all the bad spirits, and once a month in ceremonies they would cut themselves to let the spirits go free. Now, there is something smart about that, very smart. I like that." I smiled, a real smile. I didn't need to copy other people's behaviour, I _wanted _to smile.

Dr Bunting's face changed from his listening face to _Oh my fucking God this kid is mental, I need to call the cops and get him away from me, Jesus fucking Christ. Crazy!_

"You think I'm crazy." I said bluntly.

"No. I think you're creative and I think that you have a lot of pain you're not dealing with." He lied.

"My Mother's probably worried about me right?" I played along with him.

"I'm sure she is."

"She's a cocksucker. Literally a cocksucker. She used to suck the guy off next door all the time. My Dad found out and he left. He left me alone with a cocksucker. Can you imagine? How sick is that?" I said angrily, I forced some tears to form in my eyes. I pretended to blink them away.

"I've heard worse."

"Cool, can I hear some? I like stories." I said seriously.

"No."

If he had stories worse than mine then the world must be even worse than I expected, great.

"The world is a filthy place, it's a filthy goddamn horror show. There's so much pain you know. There's so much." I looked down at my wrist, a bandage wrapped around it.

"There is Tate, but that's why I'm here. To stop that pain. I want to stop your pain. I have since we started. I'm glad that you're now starting to open up to me. I think that we can get you better." He patted me on the shoulder and got a glass of water for me.

"We still have a little longer. Would you like to talk more about your parents?"

He didn't want to waste an opportunity like this.

"Yeah, I do. I want to know why my Dad just left like that. He never even said goodbye to me you know? I mean, he said goodbye to the others. Well near enough. He told them all to be good and that he loved them but you know what he said to me?" I was starting to open up, my walls were being torn away and it made me uncomfortable, he wasn't allowed to tell anyone right? Right? No one can know any of this, ever. I almost didn't hear him reply to me.

"What did he say?"

"Nothing. A big fat old nothing. He didn't even fucking look at me! We were all stood there in a line. He glared at my mother, he hugged Addie, saying how much he loved her. He told Bug to be good and that he loved him too. He even went up to the attic to say goodbye to Beauregard. He walked straight past me." My teeth were fused together and my fists locked. I breathed heavily and stared at my doctor.

"Do you know where he is now?"

"No. He hasn't tried to talk to any of us. Him and Moira ran off. Moira came back after 5 years and we met up. She told me that they were in Brazil but she left because she felt guilty." I sneered the word guilty. How pathetic of her.

"Do you still talk to Moira?"

"Of course not. Mother found out. She had a fit."

"Calm down Tate, I'm going to prescribe you these and you need to pick them up with your mother this afternoon okay? I'll see you next week." He helped me up.

I took the paper and stormed out of the office.

Kicking the fucking plant pot just to piss Janice off.

_I love that you guys are reviewing. It's brill! Anyhoo, was this better? I tried to put everything into more detail in Tate's head. Don't worry at his 'roboticness' we all know Violet brings out the human in him so be patient : ) _

_E x_


	5. Chapter 5

**Violet's POV**

"Has your family always been this way or was there a start?" He asked me.

"We used to be a really close family, very close. We would go to the park and sing along on road trips. The usual bullshit. Then my brother was born, Dean. There were complications because he was born early and when Mom and Dean finally came home from the hospital my Dad was in bed with one of his students. That's when it went to shit. But then they try and solve things she got pregnant again, that didn't work. So she's off losing her mind and not giving a shit, Dad's off with some whores and I'm stuck caring for my little brothers that no one wants." I unloaded everything onto him, I wanted to get out of therapy ASAP, I mean who wanted therapy?

"How old are your brothers?" He asked me.

"Dean is seven and Jeffery is almost a year."

"That's a lot of responsibility for a fifteen year old girl don't you think?"

I nodded. He was using the old; I'm on your side trick. Please.

"So why are you here if your parents don't care?"

"Only my Grandpa slightly cares and he saw one of my cuts once and he yelled at my parents to get me a therapist. This is to get him of their backs."

"I presume you mean self harm?"

I nodded, no tears escaped even though I wanted them to.

"How long has that been going on?"

"On and off for two years. I guess a lot of your patients do it." I admitted.

"Not many will admit it out loud but I know that the majority have or do. Our time is up. I'll see you next week and we can have a longer talk." He smiled and led me to the door.

I saw the receptionist in the waiting room cleaning up the plant pot angrily. I smirked to myself and walked home.

There was a note on the side,

_Pick up Dean from school, Jeffery from the nursery. We'll be home around 10, save us some dinner- Viv_

Oh, so not even signed from Mom. Really? That's my punishment for getting her in shit with her Dad, weak.

I rolled my eyes and turned the radio on full blast, spending the rest of my day reading.

I called the nursery around two.

"Hi, this is Mrs Harmon. My son is Jeffery, yes. My daughter Violet will be picking him up, is that okay? Thank you." I said my well rehearsed lines to Marie and started to get ready.

As I walked to the nursery I saw a woman in her late thirties or early forties stumbling up the street, a small bottle of whiskey in her palm. She gave me a wobbly smile and hiccupped, holding the bottle up. She quickly swiped it away when she saw a cop around the corner.

L.A- you see everything. I rolled my eyes and carried on.

I got Jeffery then Dean. I set them up watching some cartoons in the living room and rushed to the bathroom, pulling my sleeve up to reveal all of the ugly scars, I was two weeks clean but the fucking therapist had pushed me over the edge, it made it seem more real, that I had real issues that needed to be dealt with, I sliced my arm three times.

I remembered that the doctor said most of his patients self harmed. I wondered if the boy, Tate did. I never thought that many boys would self harm. Would he? I remembered the bandage he had around his wrist, or was it a band? I tried to picture him doing it but I didn't know him well enough. That's a messed up thing to do right? Picture someone you've said one word to self harming.

Maybe I'd see him again on Friday; I have to go to that damn place on Wednesday morning and Friday morning. Brilliant. Stuff my head full of bullshit then get upset, come home and cut.

Sounds like a fun trip out.

When I got back to the living room the boys were asleep and I felt like crying. I barely cry. I'm Violet for God's sake, the strong one. Fierce as my Dad used to put it.

I had to protect my brothers from this world. It was my job.

I felt the most sorry for Dean, when he was born no one gave him a second glance because the hype was Dad cheating on Mom and I was too young to look after him myself, at least Jeffery had me looking out for him from the start.

I made dinner for Dean and Jeffery and took them to bed at eight. Jesus, I couldn't wait to get away from this life. The only thing keeping me going was knowing I'd get out in a couple of years.

_At midnight_

I was sat at the dinner table reading and listening to my music when the door slammed open; I grabbed the scissors from the kitchen drawer and approached the door.

"Who's there?" I narrowed my eyes at the dark hallway.

"Ah Violet, is your mother home?" Dad grinned at me; Hayden was clinging to his arm.

"Why does it matter?"

"I want to know, me and Hayden need to speak privately."

Hayden giggled.

"Mom's upstairs," I lied. "You should meet up for coffee instead of barging in here." I said to Hayden firmly.

"Violet, be nice." Dad snapped. "I think she's right though Hayden, we'll discuss things tomorrow." He nodded to her and she sulked out of our house.

"What was that all about?" Dad yelled.

"You tell me, bringing a whore in."

"A whore?!"

"Yes, she's a whore. You're perfect for each other." I glared at him.

"I'm still your father; treat me with some respect Violet."

"So you're just _my _father? Not Dean and Jeffery's? Cos they're not getting any parenting from you. You're so full of shit."

He took a deep breath, staring at me. Tears threatened to escape and I blinked hard, he would not see me cry.

"Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

"Yes actually, go fuck yourself." I stormed out of the door.

"VIOLET!" He yelled after me.

_I feel like I haven't gotten the hang of writing for Violet yet? Any tips on that? Until I know I can do it well I think I'll write mostly in Tate's POV. _

_Dean is the baby that was the miscarriage in season 1, then Jeffery is the stillborn baby. Incase that wasn't clear._

_Tell me what you think _

_E xx_


	6. Chapter 6

Tate's POV

Constance was waiting for me outside with two of the dogs, a Jack Russell and a big one, a St Bernard maybe. I wasn't sure.

I sighed and took the big one.

"Are you okay sweetheart?" She pursed her lips.

"I need more meds." I didn't take my eyes off my destination as I handed her the papers.

"Are your others not working?"

"No, we just have another thing I guess."

She sighed at my inability to attempt at being normal with her and put the paper in her purse.

"Where's Lawrence?"

"He's at his house, with his family." She sighed, knowing where this was going.

"So he's not coming over tonight?" I pressed.

"I'm not promising anything Tate."

"Why can't you just leave him and his family alone. What's the point in destroying their marriage and lives?" I asked angrily.

"If you remember correctly, it takes two to tango." She pulled her dog back a bit so it didn't run out in the road.

"But you could just call it off and everyone will be on their way."

"It's not that simple and you know it. We're neighbours."

"That just makes it worse, like when we were neighbours with that other guy and Dad left because you were sucking him off"

"TATE! LANGUAGE! You're father isn't an angel either Tate, he too was unfaithful. He left you. He abandoned you without looking back. Yet here I am, I stayed for you my dear." She smiled and tried touching my cheek but I dodged.

I glared at the floor, we were silent the entire walk home.

"Oh and Tate" Constance called when I was half way upstairs.

"What?" I stopped.

"You have to start going to school, I received a phone call. The only time you are allowed off is Monday afternoon,Wednesday morning, Friday morning because of the therapist. So live it up today." She grinned and walked to the living room humming.

I rolled my eyes and lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

I thought about the girl, the depressed one with the smoky laugh and caramel eyes. I liked her, well she made me interested and in L.A, the land of the fake that was hard to do.

I wanted to know where she was so I could talk to her. Maybe she liked the same sort of stuff as me, I'm different too so why shouldn't she?

She's probably home schooled if I hadn't seen her before.

"Tate! I'm getting your meds." Constance called, I heard her gulp something.

I quickly got under the covers and pretended to be asleep so that she wouldn't bother me.

I heard the door click open,

"Tate?" I heard her almost fall but she steadied herself. I stayed almost silent.

"Asleep already huh? It's only 11." She laughed. She wasn't angry yet. "Well, I expect you to be awake when I return okay sweetheart?" She kissed my hair and I cringed, she stank of whiskey. This house stank of whiskey nowadays.

I waited until I heard the door slam shut, she'd be kicked out of the pharmacy for being drunk but what am I going to do? Get them myself? Not old enough. Maybe she wouldn't be kicked out, they knew her and she was only tipsy. I sighed and got up, grabbing my cigarettes from my bedside draw.

I opened the window and thought about if my doctor had called the police on me again. Great. More people watching me. I saw Lawrence in the front garden and decided to pay him a little visit. Might as well live up my last day away from school as Constance had put it, annoy the shit out of the guy screwing my mother.

I ran outside, still with the lit cigarette.

"You shouldn't be smoking Tate, it's bad for you." He said instead of greeting me.

"Want one?" I held one out.

"Don't tell Lorraine." I lit it for him.

"There's a lot of things I'm not telling Lorraine nowadays." The smile drained from his face and I took the smile he had, and I plastered it onto my own face. "I'm just saying you know. One day it might be too many secrets and I might slip." I shrugged and blew the smoke in his direction. He coughed.

"Tate, listen to me. You're a smart boy right?"

"Go on." I glanced him up and down, making him shift uncomfortably.

"Well, if you _let it slip_ then it could destroy a few lives couldn't it? You should know that more than anyone."

I glared. "Yeah, I know."I said defensively.

"My youngest, she's six. That's the age that you were when your Dad left. And look at you now. In therapy. I couldn't do that to my baby girl could I?"

"Then stop sleeping with my Mom, also that's not the only reason." He was trying to hurt me, going to have to try harder than people is second nature to me, so I'm not easy to hurt.

"Who knows about me and your mother?"

"I know and Bug knows."

"No one else?"

"I might have mentioned it to my therapist. I don't remember." I smiled.

"No one else can know Tate, I've explained this many times." He sighed, I saw him consider bribing me, but he knew me well enough to know I'd take the money and tell anyway.

"But you have no authority over me. You're not family."

"Not yet."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked calmly.

He raised his eyebrows and didn't reply.

"Lawrence, what's that mean?" I almost shouted.

He still didn't reply.

I grabbed his shirt roughly.

"TELL ME!"

"Let go of me! Now Tate! Wouldn't want Mommy to get mad." He nodded behind me, Constance was stumbling up the street. I shoved him and ran back inside.

"Tate? Was that you outside?"

"Just bonding with the neighbours." I lied.

"How nice of you." She threw the meds in my general direction, they hit me in the neck. I rolled my eyes and took them to my room.

**Hey sorry i haven't updated in a few days, been very busy! **

**It was my birthday yesterday! **

**Please review, might upload another chapter after this. **

**Oh and thank you for all the advice on writing for Violet, I shall be practicing : ) **

**Thank you guys so much!**

**E x**


	7. Chapter 7

Tate's POV

I sat in the basement rocking back and forth, not caring how mentally disturbed I looked. I was trying to shake the dream away but it wasn't working. Not that the dream bothered me but I'd prefer not to reside in an insane asylum to rot. I don't think that Addie screaming bloody murder helped the cause.

I groaned in annoyance as the carnage intensified in my head and I tried not to enjoy it. All of the blood pouring out of people and all over my skin.

NO!

STOP!

"NOT THE CLOSET! NOOOOOO!"Addie screeched upstairs.

I yelled back in anger at the disturbance.

I heard a smacking sound. That was it. This was becoming less and less convenient for me.

I got up and ran up the stairs to the hallway.

"STOP FUCKING YELLING!" I yelled.

"TATE LANGDON!" Constance screamed.

I looked her over. The robe was barely tied anymore and you could see her slutty nightgown. Her hair was falling out. Her cheeks were red and her eyes bloodshot.

Drunk. Very drunk.

"Give me the bottle." I reached for it.

"You are underage." She slurred and smiled.

I sighed.

"Give it to me." I ordered.

"NO!" She yelled like a child, she was bad enough as a fucking adult.

"Tate stop it." Addie squeaked.

"Go upstairs Addie, I'll be up in a minute." I said quietly. Addie did as she was told.

"Give me the god damn bottle."

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME IN THAT MANNER!" She cried.

"Constance, give me the whiskey. You need to go to bed."

She started being verbally horrible then, throwing each insult that she could think at me.

I stood there and took it, I was too used to her games didn't bother me, the voices only I could hear said worse.

I made a grab for the bottle again and she instinctively swung it towards my face, it smashed of course.

But there was no remorse there, none. Well I had no remorse for slapping her right back. Bitch.

She ignored the cut on my facejust as I ignored her wailing that I hit her. She ignored Addie crying because she had been watching. She ignored Bug yelling at us all to shut up.

Her main concern was that her whiskey was gone. She slapped me where she'd just smashed the bottle because her whiskey was mixing with my blood on the floor.

I shot a look to Addie and mouthed, Lock your door.

I took a chance and ran out of the house.

I ran as fast as I could to the beach and lay down when I got there.

"Excuse me, you're in my spot." A girl kicked my arm.

"Fuck off." I muttered.

"Rude much?"

"I said fuck off." I couldn't deal with people right now, what a day.

I sat up, in the moonlight I saw the girl. The same girl from this morning.

"It's you." I mumbled.

"Tate? Plant pot kicker?" she asked.

I laughed to fit the mask that I wore this morning. "That's me."

"Violet."

"What are you doing here, Violet?" I asked, testing how her name felt on my tongue.

"Could ask you the same."

"I've been coming here for years. So you're in my spot. Why are you here?"

"You know when you're in a place for so long and you feel like you just have to get out?"

I nodded.

"You? What brings you here?"

"Big fight."

"With who?"

"My mother." I stared into the sea.

"What happened to your face?"

"My Mother got mad when I took her whiskey." I shrugged.

"Fucking hell. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It just looks nasty. It won't look so bad in the morning." I shrugged.

She held her hand to my cheek. I almost ducked away like I did with Constance but I wanted to feel her touch, she was interesting. I was interested in how her hand felt.

"There's glass in this."

"I can get it out when I go home."

"So you come here a lot?"

I nodded. "You?"

"I guess." She sat down beside me.

"Are you okay?" I used the line most people use in conversation.

"Yeah, why?"

"Biggest lie in the book. If you're fine why were you at a therapist this morning?"

"Shut up. What's your story then?"

**Going to try and write in Violet's POV for chapter eight :) **

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